Dividing the lines that are indistinguishable and blurred,
Separating realities, looking for a cure,
Mending the inequities,
That have made my heart impure.
Contradicting visions, cloud my mind,
Opening avenues to help define,
Indiscriminate thoughts I won't resign,
Heart and soul, together align.
To myself, I'll always be true,
Lanes open, down a new avenue,
Life now shining a brighter hue,
Troubles now are but a few.
Tossing away associates, relying on Friends,
Impure thoughts, my mind tries to bend,
Battling sobriety, I'll always fend,
Making life better, there's a means to the end.
So moving forward, I will not rest
Giving him to thoughts that I detest,
Tossing impure emotions, that I have best,
Staying sober in this never-ending quest.
Fortitude and Vicissitude
What we will need is the fortitude
So we can withstand each vicissitude
In life and be able to survive
Also as well as remain alive
By a reporter will be interviewed.
Jim Horn
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx
Each and Every Vicissitude
How about this for a short one?
What should be instrumental and we include?
In all of life and each and every vicissitude
Which by you were included and expected
But people like Trump I stand corrected.
Jim Horn
August 27th, 2016 is our fiftieth wedding
anniversary and my Poetry Soup Premium
Membership is running out. Do not have
the money to extend it.
It wasn't quick
but it seemed to happen so.
The indecisive thoughts soon became quite clear,
but not exactly as crystal would be.
It's easy to see
why it could be frowned upon;
many have ended hurt,
scarred,
and even put to eternal rest.
However, she was undaunted;
she knew her misconceptions could only be
beneficial.
A swift turn and a venturesome soul
shaped her into a beautiful love song,
a hysterical vision of black and blue.
Throughout the tough goings
and a shattered lullaby or two,
she settled, though erratic,
into a breathtaking work of art
made of misfortunes and lust.
"Change has come and left,
but it shall never be truly gone,"
She cried in her lucid dreams
of the present.
The man looked at the unprofitable world
Then decided it was no place for him,
Toughen up his mind to go, to a fool's paradise;
Twined his neck in rope to heaven,
Waving and twisting like a ripe calabash to get
The tight noose out of gullet,
And there, it has past that stress eroded life;
Moved on biting his forefinger like meat,
What about mama and her cradle child,
She prevented it to come to the world not
To smell the prepared poison that man has made,
And it came after all
To fulfill all naturedness;
And she chef a pot
Of pudding on fire,
The baby swam head first,well cooked
As it last, mourning
Mama shed a rhino tears.
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